


Fuck or Die

by LesMisgayrables



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Genderbending, PWP, Rule 63, unabashedly self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesMisgayrables/pseuds/LesMisgayrables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is having one of those days. You know what I'm talking about: those days when you need to have sex or you'll spontaneously explode of sexual frustration. She approaches Grantaire for assistance because apparently her subconscious considers her an appropriate partner to mate with. Or something. The pent-up sexual frustration proves to be helpful in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck or Die

**Author's Note:**

> I won't pretend this isn't 100% self indulgent, pointless, badly written and deeply satisfying to write anyhow. I was having *one of those days* when I had the idea and wrote it a few days later, because if I hadn't waited... heaven knows this would be even worse than it is now.  
> Not beta-ed, not even reread; this'll be terribly bad, but it'd be worse not to post it at all -- the lack of ladyporn in this fandom is appalling.

The actually productive part of the meeting ended when Feuilly stepped out of the Musain. Enjolras didn’t waste a second; she made her way to the back of the room where Grantaire was laughing with Bossuet and Joly.

“Grantaire, a word, please?” she spoke tersely. The three friends looked between them curiously, but Bossuet and Joly left the two women alone. Enjolras sat down on Joly’s vacated seat, crossing her legs immediately.

“What is it that I’ve done, o great Iris?” asked Grantaire with an indulgent, curious smile. Enjolras huffed in annoyance at the nickname, but quickly moved on.

“There’s something I want to ask of you, but it’s not…” she grimaced as she tried to find words; Grantaire’s eyebrow arched. “It’s personal,” she settled with. “You’re in all your right to say no and I won’t begrudge you at all for it. It’s a favor. A personal favor.”

“Go on. I wouldn’t deny myself or you the opportunity to help,” she said, a dash of curiosity evident in her voice and expression.

“Untrue. You’ve refused to aid us many times.”

“But this is a personal favor, as you said. I would not refuse _you_ , even if I would refuse your cause,” she replied. Enjolras blinked.

“I suppose that’s good to know.”

“So what is it?” she sipped her glass of wine and stared at Enjolras as she struggled yet again with words.

“You can say no,” she said finally. Grantaire rolled her eyes.

“I know.”

“There’s absolutely no pressure, no resentment, no—”

“Enjolras, out with it.”

Enjolras took a steadying breath and opened her mouth in silence. A few seconds later, she finally spoke; “I need stress release.” Grantaire nodded, expecting a lengthier explanation. Enjolras looked at the wall for a second before coming back to her. “That’s a euphemism for sex.”

Grantaire lowered the glass from her lips slowly and set it on the table, and swallowed what little wine was in her mouth. “I’m sorry, are you requesting sex?”

Enjolras nodded once, jerkily. When Grantaire didn’t say anything, she made a pained expression; she spoke again. “ _Please_. I’m… having a difficult ovulation week.”

“Ah, you’re ovulating,” Grantaire said pointedly.

“ _Yes_.”

“So you’re really horny.”

“ _Yes_ , dammit,” she replied and slouched in her seat, looking away and blushing slightly. Grantaire let out a breathless laugh.

“Well, will you take a look at that,” she said half disbelieving, half amused. Enjolras paid her no mind. “Who knew you had a sex drive?” she continued, “You know, I honestly thought you were ace.”

Enjolras looked at her then. “I’m not.”

“And why had you never asked before?”

Enjolras shrugged as she replied. “I don’t really feel the _need_ often, and when I do, I can ignore it pretty easily – my sex drive, while existent, is pretty low.”

“You want to have sex now, though.”

“Yes, well, these past two days have been horrible and I feel like a prime bitch in heat, and it actually hurts, so yeah.” She actually sounded pissed off about it. Grantaire laughed delightedly. “It’s really not amusing.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?” she sighed and closed her eyes.

“When women are ovulating, they’re subconsciously on the lookout for a good mate to make babies with, and, well, what can I say, you know the characteristics of a good mate,” she smirked. “Your subconscious _knows_ that my sex appeal is no bluff.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow and spoke dryly. “You do know that that was a rhetorical question?”

“Honestly, I’m really flattered. Your subconscious wants to have my babies. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“I’m starting to regret this. I actually started regretting this the moment I sat down.”

“I’ll do it.”

Enjolras perked up, straightened in her seat and blinked rapidly. Grantaire grinned coquettishly.

“Really?” Enjolras asked for confirmation; she couldn’t even suppress the hopeful intonation. Grantaire nodded once deliberately and raised her glass to her pretty maroon lips. Enjolras felt her uncontrollable arousal pulse almost painfully at the promise of relief. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs tighter. Grantaire, now in on the secret, noticed this, and her coquettish grin turned into something almost predatory. “Thank you, Grantaire.”

“Absolutely no problem whatsoever. Now, time and place and I’ll be there.”

“My place, now?”

Grantaire chuckled. “Of course.” She drew out her phone, slid to unlock, and immediately started calling someone.

“I’ll make sure ‘Ferre’s not there, and—”

“‘Ponine? Hey, I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t lock up.” Silence. Enjolras listened raptly. “Nope, I just really want to get laid tonight.” Silence. “No, that’s why I said ‘don’t lock up’. I’m not bringing anybody home. Dunno when I’ll be back, though.” Silence. “Awesome, thanks. Yeah, see ya tomorrow.” She hung up and looked at Enjolras expectantly.

The blonde stood up and made her way to Combeferre. Just as she was about to speak, Grantaire stood up and waved goodbye to everyone in general.

“Night, good people. I’m going to find a lay.” A few of them called back. She left pretty quickly. Combeferre turned to her again.

“What’s up?” he asked kindly. Enjolras put up her most energetic face.

“Just wanted to say I’m gonna stay up late studying and drafting papers, in case you wanted to stay with Courf tonight.”

Combeferre sighed. “You know what we said about—”

“I promise I’ll sleep and eat. I won’t even brew coffee,” she insisted. Combeferre rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“You better. I’m staying with Courf; call me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’m just going to the library for some books and then home,” she said as she stood up. Combeferre waved goodbye at her. She looked at the rowdy table of friends and waved goodbye just like Grantaire did. “Bye, guys.”

“Bye!” they all called back in unison. She smiled at them and walked out of the Musain. As soon as she was far enough, she broke into a sprint, the thrumming in her veins getting louder the closer to home she got.

She halted at the foot of her building, where Grantaire was waiting for her, playing something in her phone. She looked up and stood, however, when Enjolras took a step closer. Enjolras looked her up and down. She was wearing an open, plaid red flannel shirt over a grey band tee, skinny jeans, white Converse, and a red wool beanie on her head, covering only a small part of her wild dark curls, which went down to mid neck. _This will do just fine_ , thought Enjolras. Grantaire sighed.

“Yes, yes, I look like a stereotypical lesbian, thank you for noticing.”

Enjolras rolled her eyes and stepped forward, unlocking the main door quickly. She walked swiftly and Grantaire followed suit, pressing the elevator button for her. They waited in silence. The elevator dinged open after a moment and they stepped in. The doors had only started to close when Enjolras turned to Grantaire.

“Can I kiss you?” she sputtered out.

Grantaire blinked in surprise. “Go ahead.” Enjolras had gotten all the consent she needed. She made full use of her long legs and took one stride to Grantaire; it was all she needed to close the distance between them. She locked her lips with Grantaire’s; smacked them noisily. Grantaire was seemingly frozen in place. Enjolras paid no mind to this and kissed her again, dragging it out this time. Grantaire kissed back only until she was drawing back. Enjolras punched the button to the fourth floor on the panel without pulling away from her more pressing task; Grantaire, to her credit, didn’t startle.

Enjolras leaned down again, this time more insistently and with parted lips. Grantaire responded in kind, and gripped Enjolras’s waist. Enjolras took this as a green light, so she burrowed closer and also gripped the other’s waist. Their kiss slowly became more comfortable. The elevator dinged as the doors opened.

They pulled away from each other and walked down the hallway hurriedly. Enjolras took her keys out and fumbled with the door for a moment before opened it and let them in, closing it loudly and locking it as soon as she could. Grantaire turned her around and kissed her again, placing her hands on the place where torso becomes legs and pushing until Enjolras was against a wall. Enjolras whimpered and broke the kiss, tilting her head back. “Yes,” she said. What she was saying ‘yes’ to, she didn’t know or particularly care.

Grantaire gripped her thighs and forced them apart so she could step between them, and then raked her nails along the seam of Enjolras’s jeans between her legs. It made her whimper again, followed by a wanton moan. Grantaire bit at the base of her neck.

“God, you’re really desperate, aren’t you?” she breathed and cupped her center. Enjolras sucked in a breath and ground against her hand; rolled her hips.

Her reply was spoken as breathless as Grantaire, but five times faster; “I’m dripping. I can feel it. I need your fingers. I need _something_ in there. I feel so empty, so empty, it’s too much.”

“Gods of Olympus.” Grantaire’s hands moved. Enjolras bucked forward in protest, but when those hands moved upward and under her shirt to cup, squish and rub at her small breasts she hummed in approval. She quickly grew frustrated, though.

“Didn’t you hear when I say I’ve been panting for it for _two days?_ Get under the bra.”

Grantaire bit at her neck once more before pulling back, taking off her own flannel shirt and tee and unbuttoning her pants, quicker than Enjolras could process. Before she could even take a look, Grantaire was tugging her shirt; she obeyed and pulled it off.

She then took Grantaire by the hand and pulled her to her room. They both shucked off their shoes and socks and pants. Only then did they take a look at the other, drank it in and enjoyed it.

“Can we negotiate terms?” spoke Enjolras hurriedly.

“Absolutely.”

“Be rough. Not sadism rough, just rough.”

“Like having your nipples played?”

“Some days. Today, yes.”

“Can I leave marks?”

“Not in the neck.”

“Edging?”

“ _Not today_.”

“Any kinks?”

“Not really.”

“Any turnoffs?”

“Dirty talk.”

“Hands and knees,” ordered Grantaire. Enjolras didn’t move. “Get on your fucking hands and knees.” She scrambled to obey this time, breathing harshly through her nose; she could feel her arousal growing even more, which made her arch her spine down in search for friction. She felt Grantaire climb into bed behind her and kneel, placing her hands on Enjolras’s buttocks. Along with the arousal came a wave of shame and embarrassment. She blushed beet red.

Grantaire leaned over her back and started mouthing at the back of her shoulders, biting on the meaty part further down the back. Her hands rubbed her clothed buttocks again before palming their way upward, fingers raking red lines across her sensitized skin until they hit her bra. She unhooked it and let Enjolras get her arms through the straps before ordering her down again. Grantaire was curved around her again, resting her forehead on Enjolras’s nape. She placed her hands on the quivering girl’s stomach and moved them upward to cup at her freed breasts. She rubbed softly for a few moments before pinching her nipples hard. Enjolras groaned and curved her back to the ceiling.

“Fuck, that feels…” she bit out. Grantaire did it again, and her back responded the same way. Her hands moved away from her breasts and Grantaire got off her back. She was about to turn when she felt a hand pushing down on the upper side of her back.

“No hands. Butt as high as it gets,” said Grantaire simply. Enjolras nodded and let her arms give out. Grantaire’s hands moved to her butt again, but this time they slid the panties off. Her mouth followed her right hand’s path wetly. Enjolras moved her knees to completely take off the panties.

“This is an embarrassing position,” she mumbled. Grantaire hummed and licked a stripe up her cunt. Enjolras moaned and her hips jerked back, seeking out the contact. She heard Grantaire’s groan from somewhere behind her.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“So, so wet.”

“So wet,” she repeated, already half gone.

“I’m gonna make it good. I’ll be so good for you. I’ll give you two orgasms, at least. As many as you can take—”

“Never gone more than two.” Grantaire responded by licking her again, mouthing thoroughly at her labia and circling her entrance with her tongue. Enjolras’s hips rolled and ground, but nothing would breach her. She whimpered. “Please, put something in me. Tongue, fingers, potato, I don’t care: it _hurts_. Get something in me please, please.”

“Turn around,” Grantaire said huskily. Enjolras didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as her back was lying on the bed, Grantaire went back to licking, but now she had easier access to everything, particularly her clitoris. She flicked her tongue, licked the little nub, teased it masterfully. Enjolras’s talons were digging to the mattress and her head was thrown back; she gasped at an irregular rhythm. Then Grantaire slid a finger inside of her and made her moan in both delight and frustration.

“More. Two.”

But Grantaire kept using the one finger. Her face lowered and she started lapping up all the lubrication positively pouring out of Enjolras; she took her labia into her mouth and sucked, licked at her vestibule, nosed at her clit, but it still wasn’t enough. Enjolras was about to shove her hands down and _push_ , but then Grantaire placed two other fingers near her entrance and thrust them in and out and in and out.

“Oh, shit, yes,” she exhaled and turned to putty. Her talons stopped digging in and her gasps stabilized; her abdomen tightened and her tights clenched; her face went slack. “That’s it. That’s it. That’s…” she felt all the frustration and sharp _emptiness_ dissipate, instead feeling a somewhat familiar tension build very deep inside of her. Her hands shot downward and clenched in Grantaire’s hair, scratching at the scalp in spasms. “So good.”

Grantaire took out a finger in her next thrust out and sucked on her clit, flicking her tongue on it. She groaned and clenched around the now two fingers getting in. She groaned again.

“ _Yes_ , yes, yes, _yes_.”

Grantaire spoke into her pelvis. “Ever played with your G-spot?”

“Don’t know where it is,” she replied breathlessly. Grantaire cursed.

“Let’s hope it works, then.” Then her fingers twisted, and again, and again in a ‘come hither’ manner. It felt slightly odd at first, but the more she did it, the better it felt. She grunted loudly. Her hands fisted tightly and her whole body tensed. She locked her thighs around Grantaire’s shoulders. She scrunched up her face and threw her head back. Her insides clenched more with each passing second, and Grantaire was still twisting her fingers. She grunted again, raspier. Grantaire dug the heel of her left hand on her pubis bone, which made the pressure inside of her tenfold. Her hands unclenched and her arms snapped close to her body.

She moaned as the pressure snapped and her entire body short-circuited. She felt flutters of soft, deep pleasure running through her body, and it was all over. She let her entire body fall limply to the bed, the only sound in the room her own harsh, rapid breaths, and Grantaire’s steadier one.

“Oh, my god,” heaved Enjolras. Grantaire chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Give me a moment.”

“I’ll give you ten. Tell me when you’re ready for another one.”

“Jesus, I don’t think I’ll make it. No, I meant to reciprocate,” she looked down at Grantaire. Grantaire, who was red faced, still wearing underwear and probably more disheveled than her, looking at her happily, chin propped in her palm. Enjolras held out her palm for her and she crawled over easily enough; she laughed when Enjolras rolled her onto the bed and started peppering kisses all over her face, neck and shoulders.

“You’re welcome, Enjolras,” she said between laughs, “it was my pleasure.”

Enjolras slithered a few centimeters down her chest until she could rest her forehead between her much bigger breasts. She relished the feeling of a female body against hers and sighed in contentment, nuzzling the ample, squishy and comfortable chest beneath her face. Grantaire bit her smile and started running her fingers through Enjolras’s golden locks.

“You’re a boobs girl, then,” Grantaire remarked. Enjolras rolled her eyes, but her hands traveled up her sides to cup the body parts in question. Grantaire chuckled.

“I’m not, really,” said Enjolras after a while, “it’s just a novelty. I don’t get to touch many breasts.”

Grantaire’s amusement faded. She smiled softly, endeared. “I think I know what you mean. I crave it sometimes, too.”

“You don’t; you have sex often.”

“But that’s not what you mean, is it?” she raised her head to look down at Enjolras, who looked back. “You mean… the warmth. The simple action of touching another body without sex. I know what you mean.”

Enjolras buried her face in her bosom again. Grantaire spoke again:

“No reciprocation needed at all, by the way. This is really nice by itself.” She felt Enjolras’s mouth open to argue, but she was faster; “Not up for debate. I don’t feel like coming, anyways.”

“Impossible.”

“Implausible,” she corrected with a cheeky smile, “but true.”

They lay like that for a few minutes, Grantaire brushing a sleepy Enjolras’s hair with her fingers, when the blonde slurred: “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Anytime,” she patted her head with finality. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

Enjolras rolled off of her. “Really? You mean that?”

Grantaire smiled as she stood up and started putting on her clothes. “Of course. I won’t mind if you return the favor that sometime, too.”

“I offered—”

“I know, Enjolras, and I genuinely didn’t and don’t feel like coming,” she rolled her eyes. “But next time will probably be different.”

“Next time,” a grin spread slowly on Enjolras’s face.

“If you feel like it.”

“Okay. My sex drive has enough material to go for the next three hundred and sixty-four days, but I wouldn’t mind repeating this it a few times between now and then,” she laughed, stretching on the bed like a cat in the sunlight. She was falling asleep quickly.

Grantaire looked at her for a few seconds before walking over and kissing her neck gently. Enjolras hummed and tipped her head to the side, giving her more space, but Grantaire receded after that.

“Bye, Enjolras. Hope you feel better.”

“Much. Thank you and bye,” she mumbled. Grantaire walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. “And you have lovely breasts!” she slurred loudly. She didn’t know if Grantaire heard her at all. “Very nice,” she reaffirmed and fell asleep soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if there are any embarrassing typos!


End file.
